


Corner Confusions

by Poison_Love_Words



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Pick-Up Lines, Banter, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Mates, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Scent Marking, Scents & Smells, Top Stiles Stilinski, oops angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poison_Love_Words/pseuds/Poison_Love_Words
Summary: Based on the prompt:Stiles gets too hot while dancing at a club with his friends. He heads outside to cool off and wanders down the side of the building to get away from all of the sweaty bodies, not quite realizing that he’s standing on the street corner.Derek, driving home from movie night with friends, mistakes Stiles as homeless/a prostitute and offers to get get him a meal from a local diner and a place to stay for the night. Stiles (a little tipsy) misunderstands Derek’s intentions, assuming that he’s being hit on by someone that he’d danced with in the bar. Deciding that bad decisions are on par with his course for the night, Stiles leaves with Derek.After much confusion, some diner food, many (so many) sexual innuendos, a few terrible puns, and some actual sex, they have their happy ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Life_of_Scratch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Life_of_Scratch/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Life_of_Scratch. 
> 
> I may have taken the prompt and ran ... very far and for a long while. I got very carried away and my internet research for this fic was quite interesting. 
> 
> Really hope you like it anyway!

The loud beat of the bass thrums through Stiles as he bobs and sways. The music is loud enough to drown out his own chaotic thoughts. Not that the trio of shots he took with Danny earlier weren’t helping. As he loses himself to the rhythm of the crowd, it’s as if nothing else but the music is necessary at this moment. Well, nothing but the music and the plethora of eye-candy around him. Looking out over the crowd of people he notices a few morsels that are just his type, big, muscled, intense, dark coloring, and soulful eyes.  


He licks his lips as one slides their way toward him. Oh, yeah it was going to be a good night. Then firm hands graze his arm, Stiles gives a flirty smile. Hopefully, it doesn’t make him look deranged, at the man in front of him. The man smiles in return and moves to grind against Stiles’ backside. Stiles lets out a frustrated groan as the man slots himself against Stiles’ back and immediately rubs a semi-hard member along his hip. Why everyone assumes he’d be into dicks along his ass, Stiles doesn’t understand. Okay, sober Stiles knows it’s his overly large shirts, delicate features, and slim build. Slightly drunk Stiles is just pissed another man presumed he bottomed.

Where is it written that looks equated to sexual preference? Shoving away from the now confused man, Stiles idly ponders if lesbians have this problem. He moves away from the mob of people finding the heat of so many bodies beginning to overwhelm him. The bar is just as crowded as he tries to flag down Lydia to ask her about lesbians and for another shot. Another shot will help cool him down. Using his years of intense lacrosse training, Stiles flails and elbows his way to the front.

“LYDIA!! I NEED TO ASK YOU ABOUT LESBIANS!” Stiles shouts at the bewildered bartender, “ALSO I WANT SLUT JUICE!” 

Lydia appears in front of him, so suddenly he lurches back before he’s able to grab the bar and keep his balance. Stiles clutches at his chest as he gives the sneering bartender a little finger wave.

“You are the worst,” She rolls her eyes at him as she pulls out a clean shot glass, “It wasn’t enough to order a redheaded slut and a blow job earlier?” She pours vodka into the glass, “You’d think at 24 you’d be done with ordering shots based on juvenile names. Mixing liquors will only make you sick, remember your 21st birthday.” She continues to lecture him as he hands over some money for the shot and then downs it.

“Hey now, I did order that shot of vanilla vodka too,” Stiles argues as he slams the empty shot on the counter, “Just trying to make sure your training is up to date.” He gives her a wink as he scans the crowd, “Have you seen Danny recently?”

“He was around about a half hour ago with some blonde guy,” Lydia shouts at him as she moves away to other customers.

Stiles throws his head back with a sigh. Great his ride is off with the flavor of the night, his gal pal is too busy tending bar, and now he’s left even more alone. Moving back toward the dance floor Stiles shrugs off his oversized flannel as sweat beads down his neck. Maybe that last shot wasn’t such a good idea. Damn Lydia and her logic. He pulls his t-shirt up as he feels more sweat dripping down his back. The room feels like an oven as bodies press into him from all sides. No longer in the mood to dance, Stiles edges his way to the door.

A cool breeze greets him as Stiles stumbles out of the club. He takes a breath of the crisp night air as he struggles out of his t-shirt, leaving him in his red, skinny jeans, black converse, and black undershirt. He lifts his arms and does a little spin as his ears continue to thump from the residual bass. A silly grin on his face as he walks away from the club and its noise. Not really paying attention to where he is going, Stiles meanders around the building. The sidewalk does not cooperate with his chosen path as it suddenly meets the street. Shrugging, Stiles pulls out his phone to order an Uber.

********************

Pack nights are typically Derek’s favorite part of the week. He likes to catch up everyone over a bite to eat and maybe some cards or a board game. They all gather in his loft or the local diner to gripe about jobs, student loans, and his lack of a love life. Sometimes he really hates being the only ‘lone’ wolf in the pack. Although, he doesn’t hate it enough to let Erica hook him up with her company’s IT consultant, yet. It’s not like he’s an old spinster, at 27 it’s perfectly acceptable to still be single. Just because the rest of his pack found their mates in high schools does not make him a loser, thank you very much, Cora.

So yeah, he loves his pack and enjoys the time they spend together, but he would enjoy it more if they would leave his love life out of their ‘official unofficial pack-business.’ If it’s not Erica trying to set him up with some IT guy, it’s Cora and Laura telling him, he needs to get over his awkward, shy phase already. Then there is Boyd who’s started to give him an encouraging look every time Erica starts on her mission. Hell, Isaac tried to shove a wad of bills in his hands tonight saying, ‘find someone to help pull that stick out of your ass.’ After that little stint, everyone laughed _and_ agreed with Isaac. Needless to say, Derek was not as excited to talk to his pack that night.

Thankfully, the girls banded together for tonight’s meeting and made everyone go see the latest rom-com. Not only did this mean they couldn’t really talk, but (and Derek will deny this till his dying day) he loves rom-coms. He is a sucker for a love story, especially if a cute boy-next-door type is involved. One who looked all cute and respectable, but was secretly an intense, caring, and dominant lover. Oh yeah, Derek definitely had a type, it’s just too bad he’s never met his type in real life. With his looks and werewolf nature, most just assume he’s a rough, power top. To make it all that much worse, Derek’s social ineptitude makes it that he very rarely voiced these desires to potential lovers. 

Exiting the theater, he refuses to dwell on these thoughts as he bids everyone a good-night. He is glad they all want to head back home after getting out of the late showing. It was just too bad he hadn’t thought to eat before heading out. As delicious as movie theater popcorn is, it is not a substitute for a real meal, especially when his last meal was at breakfast. In his defense, he got lost his work and figured he’d grab food at the diner with his pack. Now though, he is starving. Deciding it’s too late to cook anything he has at home Derek figures he can just grab a meal alone. 

This is how he finds himself driving down some side streets in the warehouse district late at night. He has his windows down to let in the breeze, and that is when it happens. The most tantalizing scent hits Derek; it grabs him and wraps him up in its spicy warmth. Derek moans, loudly. Before he can help himself. He glances around embarrassed and is very glad it’s so late at night. The scent is one he knows he’s smelt before, but it was muted and suppressed by the other people. He pulls his car to the side of the road and huffs in a few breaths, wanting more of that scent to fill his nose and mind. He opens his eyes and catches a glance in the rear-view mirror, his eyes flashing blue. Knocking his head against his seat, Derek realizes he has to find the person behind this oh so enchanting scent. Shifting the car out of park another kind of hunger has taken over as Derek slowly drives down the deserted streets. 

As he drives around, he begins to hear music, well what some would consider music. It sounds more like cats scratching glass and a too fast heartbeat to Derek’s supernatural sense. He’s tried the club scene a few times, mostly from his pack dragging him to one. Although he did have the thought, it might help him find a potential mate. At a club he didn’t have to speak too much, he could let his body talk, which was the problem. Again, Derek encountered people that made assumptions on his looks, he really should have known better. He only ever left feeling overheated and almost deaf for his troubles. What made it worse was how all the smells seemed to be dampened by all the hormones and booze. 

He is almost positive he encountered the scent at a club, maybe even the one he is slowly driving toward. He knows it was some club Laura dragged him to about a year ago, and as his Alpha, he couldn’t say no to her. That smell was the only reason he didn’t leave after Laura lost herself to dancing with her mate. He pretended to dance, only moving around everyone trying to pinpoint who smelled so damn good. Whoever it was had moved around the club, a lot. He sadly had to give up after almost two hours of walking around. He’d returned a few times, but after the third disappointment, he’d stopped.

The music gets louder as he navigates increasingly familiar streets. Then he spots him. A tall and slender man is standing at the corner of the next intersection. Derek knows he is the one who’s scent brought him here. As he watches the man approach the street corner and cock a hip as he checks his phone. Derek realizes that the man might be looking for a john. He is obviously homeless with his stained and ripped clothing, messy hair and the musky hint of sweat in his scent. He doesn’t appear to be trying very hard to find a customer if anything he might just be on his way to the shelter down the road. Too bad it is closed for the night, and the man looks like he could use a hot meal and some sleep. None of this stops Derek from eyeing the man as he slowly pulls alongside him. 

He is perfection, packaged in skinny jeans. Brown messy hair falls into honey colored eyes. His features could almost be called dainty, but there is a strength and sharpness to them that makes Derek’s mouth water. His upturned nose scrunches as he fiddles with his phone. In his thin undershirt, it is easy to see his arms and shoulders are corded in firm muscles, just enough to add to his air of masculinity without going into over-oiled beefcake territory. Derek could imagine that if the man was dressed someone might only see him as willowy and fragile, or even boyish. Somehow, that’s the thought which pushes Derek’s wolf into protect and provide mode. 

“Hey, want a lift?” He calls out to the man.

Stiles about drops his phone as a silky voice calls out to him. He fumbles it and manages to catch it before it hits the ground. Giving a mental fist bump at his impressive catch, Stiles stands up and looks at the man who called out to him. And keeps looks. Stiles’ brain fizzles as it chants ‘gorgeous’ and ‘hell yes.’ The man in the car is a wet dream tied up in greenish-eyed perfection. Even in the dim light, Stiles knows beauty when he sees it. The man quarks an eyebrow and frowns at Stiles. Who is very grateful for his too tight pants as his dick wants to get involved with that look, wants to get involved all over that face really. Stiles frowns, did that make sense? 

Suddenly realizing he’s not said anything, Stiles approaches the car, “Going my way, are you handsome?” 

He adds a wink as he licks suddenly dry lips, and then he trips over the curb. Only saving himself from face-planting into the side of the car by pinwheeling his arms. He makes a (very manly) sounds of panic before he can right himself.

Letting out a breath, he oh so casually, leans against the door frame. Letting his eyes take in the masterpiece of a human up close, Stiles lets a slow smile spread across his face. The man is built, even under the leather coat and slightly judgy eyebrows Stiles can see he puts Adonis to shame. Stiles is sure he’d remember him from the club, but then again there were a lot of people in there. Maybe this God of Perfect Eyebrows and Beautiful Scruff had been trying to get to Stiles as he’d been leaving. 

Stiles’ still (very) intoxicated mind begins to paint a very detailed story:

_Sexy Grump is standing by the back wall, glaring at all who dare approach him. He is looking for **The One™** and sadly not a single person meets his expectations. Then just as all hope and joy leave him, there across the room, it’s **him**! Mole dotted skin and a bright smile capture all his attention. Now to just get to him across the vile pit of grasping hands and viper women. He valiantly fights his way through the horde of dancing grab monsters and makes it to the bar. BUT WAIT!! It can’t be?! **The One™** is gone!! NOOOOooooooooo … Color bleeds from the world, and everything begins to turn to ash. Tears of absolute sorrow fill his gorgeous multi-colored eyes. He turns to leave, ready to drag himself away to mourn in peace when - there! Exiting the door is **The One™**. Sexy Grump feels life return. He is going to get him! A plan of epic charm, wooing, and eyebrows forms. He dashes out of the club and races to his parked car. He is going to get his **The One™**. _

“So…” Stiles is pulled from his visual reenactment of Sexy Grump’s dashing journey to find him. He looks at the man and notices the must adorable blush staining his cheeks as he clears his throat, “want to go grab a bite to eat? My treat of course.” His smile is hesitant and HOLY SHIT on a BISCUIT no man should be that sexy and have the fucking cutest bunny teeth. Stiles decides then and there; this man is going to be his. For-ev-ver.

“You had me at bite.” Stiles purrs with a smirk as he climbs into the car. “If we go somewhere that has curly fries, I am so yours for the rest of the night.” Stiles tells his future husband as he tries not to slam the door on his foot, “Possibly for the rest of eternity if there are milkshakes too.” Stiles is busy buckling his seatbelt; he misses the flash of blue eyes and nearly subvocal growl his future husband lets out.

He turns around just as the man’s broad hand clutches tightly at the gear shift. In a hoarse voice barely above a whisper, Sexy Grump tells him, “That can be arranged.” Despite his apparent nerves, his voice is velvet and Stiles melts a little. 

“Then I am yours,” He grins as the man swallows loudly and pulls away from the curve. Stiles watches him drive, plotting his way into the man’s bed and life. He doesn’t even stop to consider how obsessive his thoughts are about a man he just met. In his slowly sobering mind, it makes perfect sense to plan their future regardless of not knowing anything about each other, like their names. 

Derek is conflicted. He somehow got the most beautiful and delicious smelling man into his car. Not only that but the man has agreed to a meal and hinted at a readiness for more, but Derek doesn’t want him thinking he has to pay for his food with sex. Derek is more than willing to pay any amount to get the man into his bed. He honestly is calculating how much it might cost to keep the man into his bed for the rest of the weekend. The problem is that his wolf has decided this man is to be his mate. Now if Derek sleeps with him, it might lead to a mating bond, and that isn’t fair to someone who probably makes their living from sex with strangers. Thus, the mental math and debate on morality. 

A glance over at the man has Derek’s heart stuttering. The man is sprawled in the seat, looking for all the world like he belongs there. Once again throwing caution to the wind, Derek decides he will deal with all the potentially messy drama later. For now, he is going to have a nice meal before he takes home a stranger for a wild night of sex and debauchery. His wolf will just have to deal, Derek is going to have fun for once. 

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” Derek’s eyebrows inch upward of their own accord at the obviously made-up name. He really can’t fault the man for giving out a fake name, in his line of work it probably keeps him safe.

“Derek,” he mutters back. Gods, he really wishes he wasn’t such a social reject at times. Maybe he should have taken those interpersonal communication classes from the pamphlets Laure frequently and ‘accidentally’ leaves on his kitchen table. Too late now. As he breaths in more of Stiles’ tempting scent, sudden confidence overtakes him, “Not as memorable as Stiles, but I’m sure you’ll have no problem remembering it later.” 

Something like pride swells in him as Stiles lets out a muffled groan and his scent becomes a little more pungent. He already smells like cloves and cinnamon with just a splash of musk. It is a smell that is urging Derek to bare his neck in submission. With the addition of lust, his scent is downright addictive, and it takes everything Derek has not to pull over and swallow down Stiles’ noticeable bulge. Derek tightens his grip on the steering wheel as he fights his urges. 

“My my, looks and charm,” Stiles says in a drawl, “be still my quivering,” he pauses to run his tongue over his bottom lip as he holds eye contact. He leans slightly closer, “heart.” Stiles whispers huskily and feels his stomach do a backflip as Derek’s blush reaches his ears.

Derek is saved from trying to come up with a worthy reply as he pulls into the diner’s parking lot. The lot is mostly empty, Derek isn’t sure if that is a good sign or not. Typically, when he visits, the place is packed, but he also generally frequents during the dinner rush. 

“YES!” Derek turns incredulous eyes on Stiles as he loudly announces his excitement over their dining location and practically falls out of the car as he opens the door. Derek shakes his head in bemusement, his wolf pleased to have picked such a desirable location. Although, he wonders how long it’s been since Stiles’ last decent meal. He plans to make sure the man gets enough to eat, all the curly fries and milkshakes he wants. 

Derek is pulled from his thoughts on the homeless man as his car door opens. A long-fingered hand appears in front of his face as a teasing voice asks, “Shall we, my good sir?”  


“Shouldn’t I be opening the door for you?” Derek asks before he can stop himself. 

A rich laugh greets his question, “Naw dude, I’ll just add door service to the bill.” Stiles gives him an utterly exaggerated wink as he wiggles his fingers. 

“Uh huh, guess we can discuss that after we eat,” Derek accepts the hand and is pleasantly surprise as Stiles tugs him out of the car without any apparent effort.

“Of course,” Stiles tosses over his shoulder as he almost drags Derek along, “we have so many other things we can discuss while we eat.” His voice is softly teasing.

The diner is done in reds, blacks, and gleaming white. The floor was a gleaming black and white checker pattern with booths lining the windows and the back wall. There are a few round tables big enough for large groups in the middle of the floor. The rear wall has a long counter and an order window. This is to say it looks like a stereotypical diner modeled off a 50’s sitcom. Only with better food and less perky staff … usually. 

Derek lets out a little groan as he sees Britney is the only waitress on duty. She is mostly harmless, mostly. To most customers, Britney is a petite, friendly, bottle-blonde with a cute laugh who offers the best customer service. To Derek she is a she-demon intent on turning him straight so she can claim him as her mate, oh and she is literally a succubus. Derek is not interested, which hasn’t stopped her yet. She is positive that one time with her and he’ll never think of cock again. Derek tries not to glare as he and Stiles stop at the hostess podium. 

Stiles isn’t sure what happened, but he doesn’t like the murder brows Derek is sporting. He is slowly beginning to sober up, and with it, he is noticing a few things. One thing he is currently noticing is the predatory look the waitress is giving Derek. First off, rude. Secondly, Derek is his. Thirdly, she looks familiar in a way that sets his teeth on edge. So, this harpy needs to back the fuck off. Stiles narrows his eyes at her as he shifts closer to Derek. 

“Derek! Hi! Was worried when you didn’t come in today.” She gives him a huge smile completely ignoring Stiles, “I have your usual booth ready! Follow me.”

She doesn’t give Derek time to argue as she sets a menu down on a booth right next to the only other occupied table. Derek refrains from sighing as he picks up the menu and takes Stiles hand to move them down two booths. He hates the smell and feel of the booth she insists is his every time she serves him, even more now with other people right next to it. Pretending not to notice her look of hurt anger he sits down across from Stiles.

Britney flicks her hair over her shoulder and thrusts her chest out in the process. She leans against the table, angling her body toward Derek and completely ignoring Stiles. “Your usual sweetie?” She flutters her eyelashes.

Derek grounds his teeth, “Not sure what that would be,” he almost snarls at her. A bemused snort pulls his attention. Derek feels some of his tension leave as Stiles rolls his eyes at Britney’s back, “I think Stiles is ready since he has the only menu.” Derek’s grin might be a bit too wolfish.

She stares at Derek before she huffs and turns to Stiles with a fake smile, “What can I get you, Stewart?”

A look crosses Stiles face that makes Derek think of mischief and magic. It’s a dark look that morphs into something playful as Stiles catches his eye. The wiggle of his eyebrows has Derek turning his head away with a chocked off laugh.

“Well Brit-Ney,” Stiles drawls as he hunches forward in his seat. His eyes are bright, “See, this is my first date with Derek, and I really want it to end in a foot-popping kiss. He has already claimed first date payment rights. Which reminds me is he a good tipper?” Stiles arches a brow at the confused waitress. She gives a slow nod as he rambles on, “Right so, I built up quite the appetite earlier.” He gives a slow wink to Derek before turning back to Britney with a sigh, “now, do I play the gentlemen and only order a small plate of curly first and a chocolate milkshake, two straws. Or do I let Derek see exactly what he has to look forward to for years and order what I want? I mean as my future husband he should know just how big our food bill could be, right?” Stiles blinks at Britney as he tilts his head, “Thoughts?” He asks her with an innocent smile.

“Uhhh ….” Britney is looking at him with contempt edged with mild puzzlement.

“Order whatever you want,” Derek cuts in, “it’s nice to be with someone who might be able to keep up with me.” Derek tries to ignore the blush he feels, “You know, at least when it comes to food.” 

Stiles smirks, “Oh, I can keep up. The real question is, can you?” The resulting blush has Stiles wishing for a private setting. Instead, he turns to Britney, “I’ll take a double cheeseburger, medium with extra pickles and no tomatoes. Two sides of curly fries and that chocolate milkshake, two straws.” He gives Britney a nod before looking at Derek, “I’m trying to save room for dessert.” He pats his stomach with an innocent look. 

Stiles tries not to lick his lips as Derek’s blush darkens. He can only imagine what this shy man is going to be like in bed. Stiles kind of hopes he’s relaxes and lets his animal side out. Stiles has a feeling it would be awe-inspiring to see Derek let loose.

“I’ll have the steak and eggs, rare and over-easy. Rye toast and hash browns, and I’ll also take a strawberry milkshake, two straws.” Derek tells the waitress without looking at her, his focus entirely on Stiles’ playful smile.

“You got it hun, waters?” Britney asks as she writes down their order.

“That would be great, Brit-Ney,” Stiles tells her, “now hurry along I’m starving.” He looks at Derek as he says that. 

Derek feels his wolf become restless as Britney tries to kill Stiles with her gaze. He won’t have his mate disrespected. Stiles arches a brow as he notices the waitress hasn’t left yet. He makes a leave motion with his hand then completely ignores her. She tries to catch Derek’s eye, but he’s too busy trying to contain his wolf.

“Okay, so drunk me is becoming tipsy me, and tipsy me realizes I never asked you _The_ most important question.” Stiles grins at Derek as Britney almost slams their water down. His face goes dark for a moment, but then it brightens as she leaves.

Derek lets out a sigh, he knew they needed to discuss payment and activities, but he liked the façade that this really was a date. He really _really_ loved it when Stiles claimed him as his future husband. At least he can store that in his happy memories for later. He’s just going to ignore the fact that Stiles claimed to be intoxicated, he doesn’t smell of alcohol. 

“I guess you would have some questions,” Derek hedges as he takes a sip of water.

“Yes, now first things first,” Derek silently considers if his prices will be lower since he seems new to the gig, “Wars or Trek?” Stiles leans forward, and there is a spark in his eye that almost looks supernatural.

Derek frowns with his whole face. That is not remotely close to the question he was expecting. He feels his eyebrows lift as he processes what Stiles asked and rolls his eyes. Of course, the most enticing man would be a nerd. Derek is so screwed. 

“Do I have to pick one?” He asks as Stiles begins to tap his fingers with impatience. 

“Dude, no! I mean yes but no! Right now, in this possibly life-changing moment, Wars or Trek?!” Derek can feel Stiles’ leg shaking. 

“Trek, if I must pick and don’t call me dude,” Derek tells him.

Stiles lets out a groan loud enough the table full of teenagers look over in mild concern. He flops back in his seat and slowly melts down until just the top of his head is visible. Then he pops back up.

“No! Come on Der, Wars. It has to be Wars! How else can I play with your lightsaber?” Stiles asks with a pout.

Derek coughs as his sip of water tries to visit his lungs. Stiles only continues to pout at him. Derek takes another sip and clearing his throat, “You could always check out my photon torpedo.” Derek deadpans with an arched brow.

Stiles’ eyes go comically wide as his mouth hangs open. Derek is almost afraid he broke him when Stiles clutches at his stomach and begins to laugh. It is a deep, rich laugh that has Derek joining in before he even notices. They are loud enough the Derek can hear the table of teenagers question their sanity. He can also hear the one guy debating on how to get Stiles’ attention. Derek barely refrains from snarling at the guy. Then he calms down as Stiles looks at him with such fondness.

“I’ve never met anyone that made me feel like a unicorn before,” The smirk he directs at Derek should be a warning.

“What?” Derek asks completely missing the change in topic.

“Seriously, you make me feel like a unicorn, all happy and horny.” 

Stiles’ wink should be illegal, as well as his smirk, and his hands. If nothing else definitely his hands. Stiles’ hands are in constant motion. He is either playing with his drink, tapping on the table, or using his hands as he talks. It is enduring, sexy, and almost too much for Derek. He’s never been one to get so attached to people, but with Stiles, it feels different. He actually wants to talk.

“Are you sure your name isn’t WI-FI?” confusion colors Derek’s voice as Stiles just stares at him, “Because I’m feeling a connection.” Stiles tosses his head back and snorts as Derek looks entirely too pleased with himself.

Stiles can’t let this go unchallenged, “Is that how you are going to play it?” He lowers his voice, “Well, I’m definitely in the range of your hotspot. How about you let me connect and get full access?” 

Derek pinches his nose and groans, “Being around you is like being afflicted with the Cruciatus Curse.” Stiles lets out a squawk of outrage, “No wait, I was to tell you, being without you makes me feel like I’m afflicted by the Cruciatus Curse, oops my bad.” 

Stiles holds up a hand, “Okay, no. I cannot with you. You are like a bottle of Skele-Gro: You’re growing me a bone-r.” Stiles holds up a fist as Derek leans his head back. They are both laughing too much and don’t notice Britney reappear.

“What’s got you in such an uproar? Should I be worried, Derek?” She bats her lashes as she places his food and milkshake in front of him. Derek completely closes off as she leans closer, “Something you want to share with the rest of us?” 

“You do realize my milkshake is dripping down your shirt?” Stiles tells her in a drawl, “Might be less messy if you actually serve the food instead of trying to wear it.” He doesn’t give her a chance to retort as he grabs his glass and plate. Derek swears he is eating the burger before the plate even hits the table.

“We are good here.” He abruptly tells her. 

Britney gapes between the two of them before petulantly stomping off.

Derek can’t even be bothered, because the sounds coming from Stiles are so indecent, he contemplates if he’s being charged just listening to them. Derek watches as Stiles practically inhales his burger, licking his fingers between bites. His eyes roll back in his head as he chases a bite with a swallow of his milkshake.

“Okay, this food totally makes up for the shit service from the harpy queen,” Stiles mutters with a mouthful. “Seriously, you’ve got to try this.” Stiles holds up a curly fry to Derek's mouth, “Don’t be a sourwolf, eat the fry, eat it, eat it.” Stiles rubs the fry over Derek’s lips before he relents and opens his mouth, if he accidentally nibbled on Stiles’ fingers in the process, well then no one was commenting. 

“I’ve had-” Derek is cut off as Stiles holds up his milkshake.

“Have to have them together.” He waves the milkshake under Derek’s nose. Being the mature adult, he is, Derek sticks out his tongue before taking a drink.

“Country to popular belief, I have eaten fries and a milkshake before.” Derek tells him, “although, the chocolate does pair well with the greasiness of the fries.” 

Stiles slowly shakes his head at him, “I’m beginning to think you are the square root of -1 because you can’t be real.”

Derek picks up a fry from Stiles plate and throws it in his face. Stiles laughs as he tries (and fails) to catch the fry with his mouth. 

They settle down and eat their food, still flirty but now throwing in some personal information. They discover there is a lot they have in common. They are both avid readers, animal lovers, secret nerds (well in Derek’s case), and completely unable to hold a mature adult conversation. 

Derek learns that Stiles recently moved out of his father’s place and is apartment hunting. He’d been kicked out of his current place by his ex-best friend. Said ex-best friend decided to let his latest girlfriend move in without discussing it, and now there isn’t room for the three of them. Stiles is good-natured about the whole thing, but there is the vinegary scent of sadness as he talks. This does help explain his homelessness and current profession. Apartments aren’t cheap, especially for one person on short notice. Derek idly wonders how much of a ‘creeperwolf’ (Erica’s words not his) he’d be to offer up his spare room. 

They share stories and bits about their lives as they finish eating. Neither seems ready to leave as Britney approaches them multiple times about the check. Stiles orders them a vanilla milkshake, one straw, just to get her to go away. Time slips by unnoticed as they learn more about each other. 

Stiles seems enthralled as Derek tells him about his job as a translator for fiction books. Typically, people’s eyes glaze over when he mentions his career, but Stiles practically falls out of his side of the booth and pushes his way next to Derek. He doesn’t leave any space between them, and Derek is holding on to his control by a thread. He wants to run his tongue up Stiles neck, coat him in his scent.

“Please tell me you had to translate _50 Shades_!” Stiles is running his hand up and down Derek’s arm. If Derek didn’t know better, he would say Stiles was scenting him, “I totally need to hear you read that to me in Spanish.”

Derek lets out a huff of air, “It actually doesn’t sound too bad in Spanish.” He leans into Stiles, “Su voz es cálida y ronca como el caramelo de chocolate derretido … o algo.”

Stiles’ eyes go dreamy, “I have no idea what you said, but yes to everything.”

“Be careful, might have you agreeing to a lifetime,” Derek tells him in a whisper.

Stiles eyes go dark as he bites his lower lip. He begins to lean closer.

“Alright, my shift is almost over, and I wanted to know if I could get you **anything** else before I left. Derek?” 

“Nope,” Stiles answers her, popping the p with finality. “We just need the check so we can get out of here, Brit-Ney.” Stiles gives her a pointed look as she glances past him to Derek. “You’ve been a delight, really, but it’s time for us to leave.”

Britney shifts her glare to Stiles, and her eyes flash pinkish-purple. Stiles moves even closer to Derek; no way is a two-bit skanky intern going anywhere near his wolf. He feels his own eyes flash in response to her challenge, then he lets out a giggle as he finally realizes where he’s seen her before.

“Holy shit, you’re the crappy intern who missed your appointment with me today,” Stiles practically cackles at this admission.

Derek is very confused since when do prostitutes have interns? He looks between Stiles and Britney they’d been glaring at each other, and he’s almost positive Stiles’ eyes flashed orange before he spoke. Now, Stiles looks like the cat who got the cream and Britney is practically green.

“You can’t be Mr. Stilinski, I was told he was a bitter old man,” Britney counters as he flips her hair.

Stiles only laughs harder, “Oh Gods, you can’t be serious!” He breaks down in more laughter, “You were there today and was introduced around by Erica. You were introduced to me, head of the company, at the interns’ breakfast.”

Derek feels the world shift around him. He stares at Stiles as if seeing him for the first time. He suddenly feels that he owes Erica a huge apology, as Stiles leans a hand back to grip his knee, he changes his mind. She deserves a freaken apology basket with chocolates, coffees, and porn. 

“She told me you were the IT guy!” Britney screams as her skin begins to turn pink. Thankfully they are alone in the diner now. Derek isn’t sure if he is amused or annoyed that his night has been interrupted by their foolish soul-sucking waitress. He is leaning toward amused as Stiles winks at him with an eye roll thrown in. 

“That is because she thinks it ‘Impossibly Terrible’ that I am running my own multi-billion-dollar company at 24 when I slept through freshmen bio. Were you even paying attention today? Too busy looking for your next meal? Oh Brit-Ney, you are making it way too easy to cancel your internship. What with skipping the breakfast gathering, belittling Erica, and being a shit waitress.” Stiles shakes his head sadly.

Britney turns a pinkish-purple and hisses at Stiles, “Fine! I only took that internship to find meals other than angst-ridden teenagers,” she tosses a fierce glare over to the mess of a table the teenagers left. “I don’t need your stupid placement, but I’m taking Derek with me.”

Derek growls at the succubus, he feels the shift but is stopped from lunging as Stiles squeezes his knee.

“Easy sourwolf, I got this.” Stiles murmurs to him before facing the pissed off succubus, “Okay, you have three seconds to shift back and leave. I don’t have the time to deal with your very unwanted advances on my future husband.”

Britney ignores him as she tries to reach around and touch Derek. Derek recoils back as Stiles grabs her arm. Stiles begins to faintly glow as Britney thrashes in his hold. Derek watches in awe as the succubus slowly returns to her human form and slumps to the ground. Stiles stands over the fallen waitress, breathing heavily he turns bright orange eyes on Derek. 

Derek attempts to get out of the booth and reach Stiles when he finds himself with a lapful. His lips are captured in a heated kiss, and his senses are filled with Stiles’ indescribable scent. Stiles runs his tongue along Derek’s mouth, and as soon as Derek opens to him, Stiles takes control of the kiss. Derek whines high in his throat as Stiles bites down on his lower lip before soothing it with a flick of his tongue.

They are both panting as they pull apart. Derek tilts his head as Stiles moves toward his neck. It feels so natural to give in to the spark. It feels even better as Stiles nips and licks his way down to Derek’s collar bone. There he gives a sharp bite before sitting back up.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” Stiles breathes out against Derek’s lips as he takes them in another filthy kiss. 

“Me too,” Derek sighs. He reluctantly pulls away as he hears a throat being cleared.

“She dead?” A gruff voice inquires. Both men turn toward the squat, middle-aged man with blue pointed ears staring at them. 

“Not unless you need her to be,” Stiles tells the man, he stands up and pulls Derek with him.

The man lets out a snort before scratching at one blue ear, “Naw, she’s good for the teenage crowd.” The man picks up the unconscious succubus and slings her over a shoulder, “Sorry she got out of hand, I’ll take care of it. Meals on me.” He grumbles as he moves back toward the kitchen, “Now go stink up somewhere else with your disgusting love.” He slams through the swinging doors with a grunt. 

“Don’t have to tell us twice!” Stiles calls after him as he drags Derek back to the car.

“Wait,” Derek pulls on Stiles hand as they approach the car, “You’re a spark.” He blurts out. 

Stiles purses his lips before shaking his head, “You’re a werewolf.”

“I couldn’t smell you were a spark,” Derek tells him with some heat. He’s feeling slightly betrayed.

“Dude seriously,” Stiles throws his hands up as he paces, “you thought I was a homeless prostitute the entire night, and you never told me you were a werewolf.” Stiles is suddenly in front of Derek. He cups Derek’s jaw with a soft touch, “and my spark was masked by the alcohol in my system.”

Derek narrows his eyes he takes a discreet sniff and realizes that Stiles scent now has a hint of ozone. His wolf wants to roll around in it. Derek swallows, “How did you know about thinking you were a … yeah.” He flushes in embarrassment for his misconception.

“You were talking to yourself when the she-devil went full Godzilla. It was adorable, and I hope it is an ingrained habit, it's very beneficial.” Stiles winks at Derek before he lets out a sigh as Derek tries to pull away. “Hey now, no embarrassment. I threw myself at you all night.” This time it is Stiles’ turn to blush, “I might have been intoxicated from the club and figured it would be nice to go home with someone for once.” Stiles shifts his feet as his scent turns sour with embarrassment and sadness.

Derek growls low in his throat as he tugs Stiles into his arms, “Guess we both made some assumptions tonight.”

Stiles rubs his face into Derek’s neck, “I hope going home with you isn’t an assumption.”

Derek moans as Stiles presses close and sucks at his neck. They don’t talk for a few moments. Stiles is too busy trying to mark up Derek’s neck, and Derek is distracted by his efforts. They might have continued like that, but a car pulls into the parking lot, and they separate with flushed faces and tented pants.

“Come on, we can talk more on the way back to my apartment,” Derek kisses Stiles once before moving to the driver side, “Out of curiosity, are you really looking for a new place?” Derek knows he failed at keeping his voice casual. 

Stiles whole face lights up as he locks eyes with Derek, “Yes, but we can discuss that later after we get better acquainted.” 

They climb into the car with matching smiles. Derek starts the engine as Stiles reaches a tentative hand over, Derek takes it in his own. They smile at each other, nervous energy filling the small space. Despite this Derek feels relaxed and his wolf is calm. Stiles still has a faint glow to his skin, and Derek wants to know if he’ll taste different now. 

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles voice is light.

“Stiles?”

“Hope it’s not a problem that I’m Slytherin. Cause I plan to Slytherin your bed when we get to your place.”

Derek peeks at Stiles from the corner of his eye. The spark has a wide grin stretching his face. Derek shakes his head in mock annoyance.

“Is that a wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” 

“Naw, it’s my lightsaber, but I might let you handle it all night!” Stiles retorts as Derek questions their sanity.

The ride to Derek’s was just long enough for them to go from teasing and sweet to hot and bothered. As evident now, Stiles has Derek pinned to the wall of the elevator and his doing his best to melt his brain. The air is heady with their combined scents, Derek is finding it hard to hold back the shift. Stiles pulls away from him as a low growl begins in his chest. 

A pleased look crosses Stiles’ face, “Hold on baby, almost there and then you can let it out.”

Derek whimpers at the authority and desire coloring Stiles’ voice. He presents his neck, for the first time ever not worried he’ll be rejected by a lover. Stiles lets out a low groan before he latches onto Derek’s neck. If Derek thought Stiles had been trying to mark him up before, it was nothing compared to now. The heat and suction of Stiles mouth has Derek limp with pleasure. His hands threaded through Stiles’ hair, needing something to hold on to as Stiles scents along his neck.

“You are going to reek of me once I’m through with you, baby,” Stiles whispers to him. 

Derek isn’t sure the sound he makes in response is even human. It doesn’t matter as Stiles runs a hand under his shirt. All too soon the elevator dings as the doors open. Derek vaguely notices Stiles leads him to his own door without direction. Stiles flushes as Derek’s eyebrows question him.

“Sorry, I can feel the pull of your den.” Stiles shrugs, “your wolf calls to my spark like nothing else.”

Derek opens the door and has Stiles pressed against it within seconds. He noses along Stiles neck and scents him behind his ear. Derek feels a rumble in his chest as Stiles makes happy noises and wraps his arms around Derek. He lightly runs his fingers over Stiles back and across his sides, stopping as he gets to the hem of his tank. 

Stiles leans back from him, his eyes are dark with desire, “Tell me what you want." His voice caresses along Derek’s spine.

Derek feels his mouth go dry as he wordless arches into Stiles. Having Stiles ask him what he wants smooths over a broken, jagged piece of his soul. He whimpers as Stiles places a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth, saying without words he'll listen, really listen, to what Derek wants and needs. 

Derek has always been wary of asking for what he wants, too many times he’s been denied before, told he was too needy. Here though, with Stiles, he swallows his fear, "you … your mouth ..." he stops as the words get caught up in his throat and he shakes his head in frustration.

Stiles rubs a gentle hand over Derek’s side, "It's okay, come with me." He takes Derek’s hand and moves farther into the apartment; once again finding his way without issue.

Derek’s bedroom is sparse yet cozy. His bed is large and covered in soft, think sheets. With a fluffy, dark green comforter that practically begs you to come curl up in it. Despite having a higher body temperature than a human Derek has always steered toward warmth and softness. He hates feeling cold, and his apartment reflects this. The sound Stiles makes when he sees the bed is something filled with happiness and content. His scent fills the room, and it both relaxes Derek and stiffens certain parts of him. 

Stiles smiles as he pushes Derek onto the bed. He crawls up, stretching out and covering the other man from head to toe. With slow, gentle hands, Stiles cups Derek’s cheek and guides him into a tender kiss. It is almost too sweet as their lips glide and press together. The kiss quickly turns hungry, Derek moans as Stiles tugs at his bottom lip. All too soon, Stiles is licking into his mouthing, seemingly trying to devour him. The kiss turns hot, wet, and filthy as their tongues tangle. Derek growls as the taste of Stiles with a hint of chocolate bursts across his taste buds.

Stiles leans away, his pupils blown with a thin ring of bright orange around them. A wicked smile spreads as he moves down to Derek’s neck. “I’m going to make up this pretty neck, let the world know who you belong with.” He bites down just under Derek’s ear. A loud groan falls from Derek’s lips as a sense of belonging overcomes him, “Do you want that baby?” Stiles nips at Derek’s lope as he whispers, “Do you want to wear my marks?”

“Yes,” comes out in a hiss. “Stiles … please.” Derek runs his hands up Stiles’ back, tugging his thin shirt off. His hands slide over his toned chest, finding perk nipples and giving them a flick.

Stiles’ scent turns spicy as he moans. Sitting up, he grabs Derek’s own shirt and pulls it off in a swift motion. He’s quick to reclaim his spot, licking over his bite mark. His hands are busy touching every part of Derek’s exposed skin. Derek is almost overwhelmed with everything; he cries out as Stiles bites down on the same mark. He soothes the bite with his tongue before sucking on it, intent on leaving his mark. Derek arches into Stiles as tingles travel up and down his neck.

Their hard cocks press against each other, heat spreading even through the layers of clothing. Stiles reaches a hand down and runs a finger over the hard length he finds, “This for me?” He asks as he finally stops his ministrations. Derek is only able to mutely nod, shuttering as Stiles brushes along his member, “Tell me that you want this.” Stiles whispers.  
“Please, yes please,” Derek’s voice comes out on a low growl as Stiles grinds against him. 

“Good,” Stiles tells him as he lifts up. 

Derek can’t stop the noise of protest as Stiles moves away, “Shhh … hold on, baby. Just need to get us more comfortable.” He reaches for Derek’s pants, his hand hovers over the clasp as he looks into Derek’s eyes. Feeling flush, Derek nods his agreement. Stiles licks back into his mouth as he quickly opens the closure and pulls off Derek’s pants before the werewolf is even aware, he is naked. 

He reaches for Stiles pants only to find the spark is equally as undressed. Derek groans as he takes in Stiles’ long, thick cock. He wraps a hand around the hot length and almost purrs as moistures beads at the slit. The smell of arousal fills his head as Stiles’ cock drools in his grip. 

“Mmmm …. Oh, this is a nice surprise,” Stiles murmurs as he finds Derek didn’t bother with underwear that day. He wraps a hand around Derek’s hard length. Keeping eye contact, he licks over the head, slowly wrapping his lips around the tip. His tongue runs around the crown, playing with the foreskin. 

Derek’s hands fist in Stiles’ hair, he pants as Stiles’ mouth lowers. Derek feels his claws itch as Stiles hallows his cheeks and sucks as he pulls back off. He does this a few times, slowly sliding Derek’s cock into his mouth, letting it touch the back of his throat then he pulls off equally as slow, causing Derek to let out a wrecked moan. 

“Don’t hold back, I want to see all of you,” Stiles tells him. He continues his torturously slow attentions, gliding one hand over Derek’s member as his other hand cups his heavy sack. He rolls Derek’s full balls before giving them a firm squeeze.

“Stiles!” Derek wants to scream as Stiles makes sure to drive him crazy. He grumbles in frustration as Stiles smiles at him before lowering his mouth to his handful. Wet heat engulfs his sack as Stiles slurps and licks around his prize. Derek tosses his head back as Stiles hums and his mouth travels lower. He licks over Derek’s perineum before rubbing a stubble roughen cheek over the area, pulling a sob from Derek. Stiles sucks on the beard burn, lips, and tongue a hot brand against Derek’s sensitive skin. Time loses all meaning as Stiles alternatives between tender licks and rough sucking, making the already delicate skin red and inflamed. 

Derek claws at the sheets as he feels Stiles hold him down with one arm. He isn’t sure if he wants to press into the sensations or pull away. He feels more than hears Stiles’ moan as he shifts into beta form. Suddenly, Stiles is kissing his mouth again, sharing the flavor of Derek’s skin. 

“I want to taste you too,” Derek tries to sit up, but Stiles forces him back down.

“Not until after I visit your Chamber of Secrets,” Stiles smirks at him as he spreads Derek’s legs and settles back between them. 

“I must be insane to find that sexy,” Derek groans as Stiles laughs against his inner thigh.

“No, just means you have good taste, or maybe it’s that you taste good,” Stiles mutters almost to himself as he flicks his tongue against Derek’s hole.

The only response Derek is able to voice is a sob as Stiles kitten licks around his rim up to his tailbone. He finds himself almost bent in two as Stiles lets out a low groan and pulls his hips up. The new angle allows Stiles to suck a kiss against the fluttering muscle. He nibbles around the softening hole, listening as Derek whines high in his throat, then he mouths at the little pink furl, coaxing it to relax. Stiles feels the muscle give and he presses the tip of his tongue into Derek’s clenching channel. 

Derek is unable to do more than whimper and beg as Stiles holds him still. He feels open and sloppy when Stiles slurps and practically makes out with his hole. It is everything he’s always wanted but was never allowed. 

Stiles whispers words of praise as he eats Derek out, “So hot. You fucking taste so good. So good. Let me hear you.”

He cries out as Stiles introduces a finger, pressing into him at an agonizingly gradual pace, “Fuck me, fuck me, more Stiles. Please.” Derek babbles as Stiles crocks his finger and just barely rubs against that one spot inside him. Stiles uses that finger to tug against Derek’s rim, opening him up slightly to add a second finger. The slight burn of it all has Derek panting. His world narrows down to the fingers and tongue taking him apart. 

Stiles shifts up until he is face to face with Derek. His fingers continue to twist and push against Derek’s prostate. Enough for him to try and fuck himself on them. Stiles only holds him down harder, licking at the tears on Derek’s face as Derek begs him, “Please, harder. More. I need more. Feels so good.” 

“That’s right baby, tell me what you want.” Stiles presses his fingers hard against Derek’s sweet spot, “Like that?”

Derek’s hips twitch as he growls. He still can’t move, but Stiles has picked up the pace and is fucking his fingers into him. He moves back down and licks around his fingers before they sink all the way into Derek, “Where’s your lube, baby?” Stiles asks as he rubs his fingers along Derek’s tight channel, making sure to once again avoid his prostate. 

Derek quickly grabs the lube from the bedside table, almost sobbing in relief as Stiles pours a generous amount over his twitching hole. Stiles removes his fingers only to return with three. He rubs around Derek’s soften and puffy rim, pushing his fingers in until the second knuckle. The sounds Derek makes as Stiles fills him has Stiles reaching for his own neglected cock. He has to harshly squeeze around the base, trying to stave off his orgasm until he is surrounded by Derek’s tight, wet heat. 

“Stiles! Stop fucking teasing and fuck me!” Derek’s eyes are blown wide, just a hint of blue around the edge. His fangs have dropped, and he is more than ready to be fucked into the mattress.

“Is that what you want? For me to fill your tight hole, stretch it out until all you can feel is me?” Stiles moves to whisper filthy words in his ear, “Then as you squirm on my cock, begging me, I’ll pound your sweet ass. Make you feel it for days. Have you so wrecked all you can think about is me filling up your sloppy hole. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. All you’ll ever want is my cock, my hands, my mouth on you.” Stiles tells him as he removes his fingers. “You are going to be covered in the smell of me, outside and in. I’m going to cum in you so deep that you will never be without my scent mingling with your own.” He watches as Derek’s hole clenches around nothing, slightly gaping. Derek moans as he is left empty, the need to feel Stiles makes him roll his hips seeking out more. 

Stiles takes his own weeping member and rubs the tip around Derek’s rim. He teases the werewolf, loving the broken sounds and pleas falling from his red and kiss-swollen lips. It’s not until Derek is almost humping back that Stiles pushes into his still tight ass. They both moan as Stiles bottoms out. He watches in awe as Derek arches into him, grinding against his pelvis as Stiles holds still.

Not able to wait any longer, Stiles pulls out until just the tip remains. He thrusts in, angling to brush over Derek’s prostate. He immediately sets a fast and rough pace. Fucking into the clenching heat, teasing the other man as he just barely rubs against that one spot. Missing it completely on every other thrust. He continues this until Derek is almost continually growling. Derek moves a hand down to his own cock, needing the extra stimulation. Stiles grabs both his hands and presses them into the mattress above Derek’s head.

“You are going to come on my cock,” Stiles rumbles at him, “Come on baby. Show me how good you can be and come untouched.” Stiles leans into Derek, this changes the angles of his thrusts. Now he is hitting Derek’s prostate dead on with every inward push. He watches as Derek tosses his head back and howls as his sweet spot is assaulted. Stiles beings to grind his hips against Derek’s perk ass, making sure to prolong Derek’s pleasure. 

Stiles feels his own orgasm approach as Derek tightens around him. He feels the tell-tale tingle up his spine as Derek writhes beneath him. The sounds of Derek’s harsh breathing and smack of his balls against Derek’s ass fill the room. He watches in wonder as his own thick cock disappears into Derek’s red and puff hole. Derek is letting out an almost constant stream of cries and wails of pleasure, tears glisten in his eyes as his own release is just out of reach. 

Stiles noses along his neck, finding the darkening bruise he left. He gives one last hard thrust against Derek’s prostate and bites down on his mark, hard. He holds on as Derek comes apart under him. Derek’s already tight hole clamps down almost painfully on Stiles’ cock, and he bucks up as his own member spurts out thick ropes of cum, covering them both. As Stiles rides out the waves of Derek’s orgasm, his own climax hits him. He shoves in deep, coating Derek’s insides with his seed. 

They lay there, unmoving as each try to catch their breaths. Stiles slumps against the firm body beneath him, nuzzling into Derek’s neck. As they regain awareness, Stiles shifts Derek’s legs down to the mattress and helps the werewolf stretch them out. He pulls out and is enthralled with the dribble of white that rolls down between Derek’s cheeks. Stiles shifts until he is laying next to Derek, his head pillowed on the were’s chest. Reaching down, Stiles gathers up the spilled seed and pushes back into Derek’s loosen hole. He lets out a groan as Derek tightens around his fingers. 

“Keep it all inside for me, need everyone to know who you belong to now,” Stiles whispers as he lazily thrusts his fingers in and out of Derek. Derek buries his face in Stiles’ neck as he wiggles around with a happy sigh, “Keep that up, and round two will happen soon rather than later.” Stiles voice is rough as he continues to play with Derek’s rim, unable to keep his hands away. 

“Stop being a tease then,” Derek tells him with a huff, not stopping his own movement.

“MMmm … but teasing you is so much fun. You make such pretty noises,” Stiles leans up and nips at Derek’s lips, seeking entrance.

They kiss lazily, neither feel the need to rush into another round. Instead, they make out, exchanging kisses before Derek scents along Stiles’ neck. The spark tilts his head back encouraging the wolf. Stiles stills his fingers in Derek but doesn’t remove them, occasionally he brushes against that little bundle of nerves just to feel Derek shutter against him. 

Eventually, they drift to sleep wrapped in each other’s arm.

Stiles wakes up and nuzzles into the warm skin under his cheek. He smiles as Derek shivers and tightens his arm. They apparently slept through the night, if the morning light streaming through the dark curtains is anything to go by. Stiles grimaces as he feels the sticky, dried cum decorating his hands and Derek’s torso.

“Why did we not think to clean up last night,” he grumbles as he sits up. A smile immediately spreading as he takes in Derek’s bedhead and sleepy expression.

“Probably because we fucked our brains out,” Derek replies as he stretches with his own grimace of disgust, “how about we take one now?”

“Perfect, and then we can get all messy again,” Stiles grins as he captures Derek’s mouth in a heated kiss.

A wicked smile, entirely at odds with his soft eyes and rumpled hair, touches Derek’s lips, “I vaguely remember you mentioning I could play with your lightsaber.”

Stiles rolls on top of Derek, laughter twinkling in his eyes, “Oh, I don’t know about that, will have to charge you extra.” He giggles as Derek’s eyebrows inform him just how unfunny they find him.

“How about you just move in here for payment. I even have a spare room if you want,” Derek blurts out before his brain catches up with his mouth.

Stiles stares at him for a long moment. Derek feels his face heat up, he regrets being so forward and is about to take it all back when Stiles finally speaks.

“If you are free today, I can have all my stuff moved in by nightfall,” his own eyes are filled with nervous hope as he bites his lip.

“Uh, I actually volunteer at the animal shelter Saturday mornings, but you are welcome to join, then we can go get your stuff after.” Derek feels something loosen in his chest as Stiles graces him with a bright smile before crushing their mouths together. They taste and explore, getting lost in one another. In time, they move to the bathroom, taking turns washing the other. Derek drops to his knees as he glides soap-slick hands down Stiles’ body. He teases the spark’s ‘lightsaber’ with lips and tongue, finally getting a taste. Stiles babbles about revisiting Derek’s ‘chamber of secrets’ as he cums down his throat.

Later, the lovers are clean and wrapped in towels. Derek pouts as he finds Stiles scent not as strong on his own skin. Stiles soothes the wolf, rubbing against this soft skin and showing Derek to the mirror. There he finally is able to see all the marks Stiles left on his body. Belonging and a sense of rightness blooms in him as he sees evidence of their mating. Stiles tells him that he can make a permanent claiming mark when they are both ready.

They move to the kitchen, comfortable enough with the other to not bother with clothing. Breakfast is a loud and joyous event. Stiles trying to impress his mate with his lack of culinary skills, burns the toast as Derek fails at keeping his laughter quiet. They bicker over how to cook the eggs and lose a few when Stiles thinks that tossing them to Derek is a good idea. Somehow, they still manage to make a delicious omelet with lightly toast rye bread, and a glass of orange juice, one straw. After cleaning up, they move back to the bedroom to get dressed for the shelter. Derek lets out a rumbling purr as Stiles dresses in some of his old clothing. 

“So, after the shelter, can I take you out for lunch? My treat this time?” Stiles shyly asks as he puts on his shoes.

“Only if there are no succubus masquerading as waitstaff,” Derek mutters as he pulls on his own shoes, “otherwise I am all yours.”

“Excellent, we have our second date planned. I know just the place I’m taking you too, and it’s completely succubus free.” Stiles’ grin is something soft yet wicked. “Then we are going to my old place to have sex on every service. I mean _every_ surface, especially the kitchen and Scott’s bed. He’s out with what’s her name all weekend, and I want the place to positively reek of us.” Stiles almost cackles, “Then after we bring my stuff here, I’m going to ravage you until my name is the only word you know.” He bites his lip, and his scent gets a little bitter with worry. Suddenly his confidence is gone as he quietly asks, “That is if you still want me here.”

Derek lets out a soft whine as he pulls Stiles back into his arms. He sits them down on the bed, “Idiot, you’re stuck with me, for-ev-ver.” He noises along Stiles neck as the spark squirms and giggles. 

Stiles shifts and wiggles until he is facing Derek, “Forever sounds perfect, and you don’t even have to pay for it.”

Derek’s eyes twinkle in the low morning light, “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen you eat.” 

He laughs as Stiles shoves a pillow into his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Had a ton of fun writing it. Let me know if you liked reading it!!
> 
> Update: Bashfyl had the awesome idea for people to comment with their best awful pick-up line. I can then use them in the next part. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I can't handle having completed fics. Haha
> 
> This is what happens the next day with the teasing of a plot. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Stiles is in hell. Or maybe heaven. He tilts his head to the side and takes in the scene before him and lets out a small, almost pain-filled sigh. Nope, most definitely hell. Possibly the seventh circle. He’s deep in the fiery pits of torment and anguish, never again will he be able to feel bliss. He tilts his head to the other side, okay that was a lie. He most definitely has bliss in his life, great firm yet supple bliss. Bliss he is going to reacquaint himself with as soon as it is done being a selflessly fantastic person. 

Stiles knows he is being a bit of a creeper as he continues to ogle Derek’s backside. In his defense, Derek is in the kitten room as the little balls of fuzz crawl all around him. He is bent over tickling the stomach of a tiny all black kitten who has been following Derek around since he entered the enclosure. Stiles takes an extremely brief moment to acknowledge the long line of people also watching Derek. He’s pretty sure the shelter should be paying Derek for all the help he provides with their adoption rate. 

Although he is beginning to feel a stirring of annoyance as people continue to gawk at Derek. It is totally different when Stiles does it. He is acknowledging that his future husband is still where he left him and is in generally good health. Derek glances back at him and Stiles gives a little wave as he trips over the bag of dog food is portioning out. The smile Derek gives him in return is blinding. Stiles rolls his eyes and pretends to go back to work. Secretly preening as Derek takes his turn in the ogling department. 

It is all too perfect, who knew hell would be filled with litter boxes and a soulmate? Stiles feels a prickling along his neck and knows another supernatural creature is in the area. He gives the crowd another look over … oh it’s him! Stiles subtly glares at the pretty-faced blonde in a freaken scarf. He can’t be more than ten years old tops. Okay fine, he’s sixteen … maybe. Either way, he is too young and way too _much_ to be staring at Derek with such adoration. 

Stiles quickly turns around and ends up dropping a scoop of the kibble on the floor as the devil-boy looks his way. He tosses the scoop back in the bag as he moves to get the broom. He glances back at the blonde-haired devil and narrows his eyes at the boy. The devil is still staring at his bliss; Stiles does not like this devil. He isn’t even a smart devil. Instead of joining the mass of rabid fans faking interest in the kittens, he’s been feigning interest in the large breed dogs for the past ten minutes. Seemingly very interested in the empty cages, while throwing long, lingering looks at Derek.

Unimpressed with the baby wolf, Stiles cleans up his mess. His thoughts quickly turn to his plans for later. The morning has been something out of a fantasy Stiles didn’t even know he’d had. It didn’t even matter that most of his morning was spent cleaning out animal crates. Just the fact that he spent the time with Derek made it enjoyable. It didn’t hurt that Derek was like a fucking Disney princess with the animals. Seriously, Stiles has to rethink his whole-

“Fancy seeing you here. Talking to him is slightly less creepy than staring,” A soft, teasing female voice whispers in his ears. 

“ACK!” Stiles jumps about a foot in the air, spilling the giant bag of dog food all over the floor. His heart pounds in his chest as he turns around to face the laughing woman. His face hardens as he stares at a cackling Erica. She is doubled over, hands on her knees as she lets out another peal of laughter.

“Oh sure, laugh it up,” Stiles tells her with a small smile forming, “Too bad I’ll be the one laughing when it comes time for your Holiday bonus.” He snorts as she abruptly stops laughing and stares at him with an unamused look. 

She stands up fully with an eye-roll, “Say that now, just wait till I introduce you,” She gives him a smirk and loops an arm around his shoulder as he grimaces, “Derek is so ….” She trails off before abruptly spinning him around and sniffing at his neck. 

“Whoa now! Hey, we may not be at work, but I’m still claiming sexual harassment!” Stiles tells her, taking the bite out of his words with a laugh as her breath tickles his ear. 

Erica pulls away from him with a grimace, “Oh Ewww, what the hell Stiles?!” She backs up a step, “Did you bathe in his freaken cum?!” She waves a hand in front of her face, “I can’t unsmell that.” 

Stiles snorts at her before a smirk slides across his lips, “You should go smell him.” 

Erica gags a bit more then turns to see Isaac talking to Derek with a pained look of his own. She arches a brow at Stiles, “I think that is going to be a hard pass for me. Isaac looks like he is trying to learn how not to breathe.”

Stiles glances back at the blonde devil, “So the fiend has a name,” he murmurs with a hard glare when the scarf-wearing imp runs a hand down Derek’s arm. 

“Stiles, jealousy is not a good look on you,” Erica sighs as she pops a stick of gum in her mouth, “Derek is like Isaac’s older dorky brother.” She waves a hand in their direction, “Besides, your claim on him has to reek to high-heaven to cover up the scent of pack. Oh, which reminds me!” She pulls out an envelope from her back pocket.

Stiles hardly pays her any attention, too busy trying not to kill _Isaac_ with his eyes. Maim and permanently disfigure, maybe, but he didn’t want to explain to Derek why one of his packmates was a pile of ash. Granted this wouldn’t be an issue if said packmate would keep his damn hands to himself. Wasn’t that something you learned in kindergarten!? Stiles knew the kid was too young. 

Fingers snap in front of his face, and Stiles startles as Eric heaves out a sigh, “Are you done? Cause I gotta tell you this is about the funniest thing I’ve seen all week. Future you may die of mortification once you actually go meet Isaac.” She lets out a snicker as she glances back over her shoulder, “This is too much, now Mr. Awkward-Pants is glaring at me.” She turns back to Stiles with a huge smile, “I better be one of the first people invited to the wedding, and it better be an open bar.” 

She winks at him as Stiles finally stop his quest to protect Derek from grubby handed devils. He levels an unamused look at Erica, “Oh please, I was the one who had to set a fractured radius and do a memory wipe on that one receptionist when she winked at Boyd. Pot meet kettle. ” 

They stare at one another for a long moment. Then both laughing, making facing and pointing fingers while practically gasping for breath, or avoiding deep nose breathing in Erica’s case. Stiles begins to calm back down and finally takes note of the small envelope in Erica’s hand. It is a light cream color with a red wax seal holding it closed, a triskele stamped into the wax. Stiles immediately sobers and stands up feeling a shiver of excitement.

“Is that what I think it is?” he breathes out, purposely quiet to contain his spark in his eagerness. 

Erica stops her chuckling and stands up straight facing Stiles, a severe look on her face, “Stiles M. Stilinski, I am here on behalf of the Hale Pack’s Alpha. It is my great honor to gift you with this invitation to meet with Alpha Hale to discuss transfer to the Hale Pack as Emissary.” Erica ends her speech with a little bow as she places the summons in Stiles’ hands. 

Stiles stares at the letter with a mixture of happiness and a touch of sadness. He is planning to leave the pack of his once best friend in the entire world. Then he thinks about how he’ll be part of a stable and diverse pack, and it’s Derek’s pack. That thought pushes the small twinge of sorrow from his mind. 

Giving Erica a small nod, Stiles formally responds to the summons, “I am privileged to accept this invitation; please extend my gratitude to your Alpha. I agree to meet with her at the chosen date and time.” Stiles gives a small bow of his own as he pockets the little envelope.

Erica beams at him, “Well, now that all the pomp and circumstance is complete, I can say it’s going to be wild having you in the pack Batman.”

“Don’t go planning the celebration just yet, Catwoman. I still need to prove my worth and dedication to Alpha Hale,” Stiles moves around finishing up with the dog food. “Besides, now I also need to ask for her brother’s hand in claiming.” Stiles gets a funny look on his face as he says this, all bright eyes and a big smile.

“You’d be doing us a favor on both accounts,” she leans in with a conspiracy whisper, “between just you and me, I’m sure you have the Emissary position just for putting a smile on Dour Derek’s face.” She pops her gum while offering him a salute, “As much fun as hanging with the boss on the weekend is not. I’m off to sex up Boyd and get the smell of spark semen out of my nose.” 

“Don’t be hating!! You wish your semen smelled half as enticing as mine does!” Stiles shouts after her. 

A throat clears behind him, and he whirls around to come face to face with an embarrassingly confused Derek. Stiles feels his face heat up as Derek’s left eyebrow does a little dance before meeting his hair-line. 

“Is there a reason you are yelling about Erica’s imaginary emissions?” Derek keeps a straight face, minus a small twitch by the left side of his mouth; his cheeks flame a bright red with his words.

Stiles’ heart skips a beat, and he can help but lean into the other man. His lips lightly brush along the corner of Derek’s mouth before pressing a sweet kiss the wolf’s nose, “Just a little uncouth work humor.” 

Derek hums in reply as his right eyebrow now states its disbelief of that statement.

Stiles’ smile gets bigger as he runs a hand down Derek’s arm, completely ignoring the fact that it is the same path Isaac’s hand make minutes earlier. He links their hands and gives a gentle tug. Derek follows without hesitation. Their time is over at the shelter and Stiles can feel the multitude of eyes following Derek out the back door. Which does not result in him angling his body slightly to block Derek from their vapid gaze. 

“No worries Sourwolf, I’m going to give you all the sordid details of Erica’s visit over lunch.” Stiles pulls Derek’s hand to his mouth and lightly bites a knuckle.

Derek’s breath hitches, “Why does your statement worry me, and yet my wolf is practically jumping around with eagerness?”

“Dude, that’s obviously because your wolf has good taste.” 

Stiles sticks out his tongue as Derek grumbles, “Don’t call me dude.”

“Okay sweet cheeks, shall we go get that lunch I promised you before we have marathon sex? Like all the sex. Everywhere.”

“Do I need to dignify that with an answer?” Derek laughs as Stiles pouts. 

“Just for that I’m not telling you where we are going to eat,” Stiles grouses good naturally. 

Derek shrugs unconcernedly. He doesn’t really care where they are going; he already has Stiles with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More flirting, pick up lines, and awkward jealous!Derek in the next chapter!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
